The Mists of Sorrow: The Morcyth Saga Book Seven (3 page)

Just then Delia comes in from one of the
side entrances, with her hand resting on Shorty’s arm. When they
join them, Shorty has a big smile on his face and Jiron arcs an
eyebrow at Delia.

“Oh stop what you’re thinking right now,”
she says, a slight blush coming to her face. “It’s nothing like
that.”

James glances questioningly to Shorty who
grins and says, “I asked her if she would like an escort and she
said yes.”

“Escort,” snorts Jiron.

Shorty pulls out her chair for her and holds
it while she sits down.

“Thank you,” she says to him.

“You are welcomed milady,” he replies with a
bow. Then he moves down the table and takes his seat.

“…I tell you it is true!” Potbelly’s voice
comes to them before he enters through the main doors. Scar, who’s
walking beside him nods in agreement.

“Oh lord now what?” James says.

Jorry and Uther walk with them and you can
see they aren’t buying whatever it is the other two are saying.

“I swear it! She had three breasts,”
continues Scar.

“In your dreams maybe,” counters Jorry.

Uther crosses to their table and asks Jiron,
“Have you ever heard of a three breasted woman?”

“Can’t say as I have,” he replies.

“Ha!” Jorry exclaims. “I thought not.”

“He wouldn’t have known her,” insists
Potbelly, “she only came to our fights. Once in awhile she would
invite us back to her place for a little entertainment.”

Under his breath Uther says, “I bet it was
little.”

“Ah, what do you know from anything?”
blusters Scar.

“I know a lie when I hear one,” retorts
Jorry.

“Enough!” shouts Illan.

The entire hall falls quiet and the
musicians abruptly stop as all eyes turn to them. Realizing they
are now the center of attention, they glare at each other and take
their seats at the table. When no further commotion happens, the
musicians resume their play and the normal murmur of the guests
returns.

Devin and the rest of the recruits arrive as
a group and take their places at a nearby table. The last to enter
is Aleya. When Jiron sees her he freezes in place. From somewhere
in this fortress she’s found a dazzling blue dress that fits her
perfectly.

Delia reaches over and pushes up his chin to
close his mouth. “Go over there and escort her to her chair,” she
urges.

Getting up, he hurries over and just as
Shorty did with Delia, he offers her his arm. Placing her hand upon
his forearm, she strolls with him back to their seats. James gets
up and offers her his chair so she can sit next to Jiron.

“Thank you,” she says as she takes the
offered seat.

Jiron practically thrusts James out of the
way so he can be the one to push her chair closer to the table once
she’s seated.

Rather than be angry at the rude way he was
pushed, James grins at Jiron.

Once James and Jiron have taken their seats,
Illan stands and takes his goblet in hand. Banging it three times
on the table, he stands and waits until the hall has quieted.
Nodding to the two guards at the other end of the hall, he signals
for them to close the main doors.

With every eye on him, he raises his goblet
and says, “For Madoc. May her future be better than her past.”

Throughout the hall, glasses are raised as
the guests cry out, “For Madoc!”

Once everyone has taken a drink and thus
honored the toast, Illan sets his goblet down and says, “Friends
and comrades. I for one never thought I would host a dinner here in
the fortress of Al-Ziron.” At that several chuckles sound out from
various men in the hall.

“Tonight we honor one who more than any
other made this happen,” he says. Picking up his goblet once more,
he turns to James and says, “To James. Mage and ally of Madoc,
without whom Madoc would even now be grinding under the heel of the
Empire.”

“To James!” the cry resounds throughout the
hall. Jiron glances to his friend and grins. He knows how James
hates the spotlight and would rather just sit at the fringe
observing.

“Now,” announces Illan, “let the feast
begin!”

From the sides of the hall, men bearing
platters of food enter and begin sitting them on the tables. Not a
great variety, nor are there any specialized treats, this is the
best that can be had on short notice.

During the meal, the talk gravitates from
the past, to the future then back to the present. All are hoping
for a complete and quick halt to the war. Once the feast begins to
wind down, Delia takes Shorty by the hand and soon has him out on
the floor dancing. Aleya, not one to be outdone, drags Jiron out as
well.

The night is spent with feasting, music and
friendship. They all try to forget that their group will soon be
splitting up as James and those going with him leave on the morrow.
At one point the musicians fall silent and are given a break while
Jorry and Uther regale those at the feast with a tale of how they
got the better of an assassin who was trying to kill Jorry. Seems
he besmirched the daughter of a well-to-do merchant who hired the
assassin to take care of him. One thing led to another and the
assassin was eventually handed over to the town guard and the
matter was never again brought up.

When they finished their tale, the listeners
responded with a vigorous applause. Scar and Potbelly were about to
start in on one of their own when the musicians started up again.
Scar glances over to the musicians and was about ready to tell them
to stop when he sees Delia standing there next to them. Giving him
a glare and shaking her head, she moves to Yern and drags him out
to the dance floor. Apparently she wanted to dance more than hear
another of his wild tales.

About this time, Miko makes an appearance.
Blood soaked clothes and some serious bags under his eyes, he walks
through the main doors. James notices in one hand he’s holding a
half eaten tart. Where he managed to acquire one of those he has no
idea.

Plopping into the seat next to him, Miko
stuffs the remainder of the tart in his mouth.

“Where did you get that?” James asks
him.

“The cook,” he replies. “One of the men I
healed was his brother. He asked me what my favorite food was and I
replied ‘Tarts, though I doubt if there are any to be had here.’
Well, two hours later here he comes with a plate containing half a
dozen steaming hot tarts.”

“Don’t suppose you have any left?” he
inquires.

Looking somewhat guilty, Miko shakes his
head. “Sorry, that was the last one.”

James pats him on the shoulder and gives him
a grin. “That’s okay,” he says. “After all you’ve done for
everyone, you deserve them.”

“Next time I’ll save one for you,” he
assures him.

A few minutes later, Brother Willim and the
other two priests of Asran enter the hall and make their way toward
them. When Brother Willim draws close James indicates the chair
recently vacated by Jiron while he’s out dancing with Aleya.

Taking the seat, Brother Willim leans back
in the chair and sighs. The other two priests join Derek and the
others at their table.

“Tired?” asks James.

“Yes, very,” he replies. Nodding to Miko he
adds, “I think between Miko, my brothers, and I many lives were
saved. What there is left can be readily dealt with by the
healers.” A server brings him a cup of ale and he downs it in one
gulp. Giving out with a satisfied ‘aah’ he sets the cup on the
table where another servant carrying a pitcher comes forward and
refills it. “Thank you my son,” he says to the server as he takes
up his cup once more. The server nods and immediately withdraws
back to the wall where he scans the assembled guests for anyone
else in need of a refill.

“I heard you are leaving in the morning?”
asks Brother Willim after taking one more swallow of ale.

“That’s right,” replies James. “We’re going
to escort several of our comrades to Cardri. Most of them aren’t
really suited for warfare.”

“None of us really are,” he states. After
pausing for another drink he says, “I would still like to accompany
you if you don’t mind.”

“What about your fallen brothers?” he asks.
“Aren’t you going to escort them back with the other two?”

“No,” he answers. “My brethren can do that
well enough, what I needed to do has already been done.”

James is delighted to have such a man
journey with him. But then a thought comes. “This wouldn’t have
anything to do with me being the ‘Gardener’ would it? If I remember
right, you called me that during that last big battle in the
desert.”

Brother Willim gets a crooked grin and nods.
“Somewhat, yes,” he replies.

“Just what does it mean that I’m the
Gardener?” he asks.

“There’s an old prophecy handed down from
old…,” he begins.

“Isn’t there always,” interrupts James with
a sigh.

“What?” questions Illan who had been
listening in on the conversation.

Not realizing he had spoken aloud, James
turns to him and says, “Oh, nothing.” Then to Brother Willim he
says, “Sorry for interrupting you, please continue.”

“Centuries ago, a man came to one of our
lord Asran’s temples,” he continues. “Which one I’ll not say. The
man was wracked with fever and eventually slipped into the sleep of
the dead. Not completely dead yet not completely alive either.”

Must have been in a coma,
reasons
James.

“During the time when he lay in the sleep of
the dead, there were times when he spoke. At first the priests
attending him thought his words were gibberish until one old
scholarly priest realized the man was speaking in a language long
dead to the world of men. Only the most learned scholars still
understood the language, some of the oldest surviving tomes we have
are written in it.”

“Immediately they had the priest begin
writing down the words the man spoke. He wouldn’t speak often so
they had the priest stay with the man constantly, ever prepared to
put to parchment the words of the man.”

“And has anything the man spoke of come to
pass?” James asks.

Nodding, Brother Willim says, “Yes,
several.” He takes a sip of ale and then continues. “After the
first several months, he began speaking of the end of the world. Of
fire and shadows consuming all life.”

At that James and Illan glance to each
other. They can see reflected in the eyes of the other the memory
of the shadows they have encountered.

“There are many passages linking the
Gardener to the end of the world. Some foretell of his coming,
others speak of events that will transpire before he walks upon
this earth.” Glancing first to James then to Illan he adds, “At
least five that I know of have come to pass in the last few
years.”

“Okay,” says James. “What makes you believe
that I am the Gardener of which he spoke?”

“I will tell you of two,” he says. “Here is
the first,”

When
evil arises, its
neighbors to swallow,

A man shall come to lands gone fallow.

With might and right its tide to slow,

The Gardener walks the lands to sow.

“We believe the arising evil is the Empire,”
he states. “‘Swallowing its neighbors’, that’s exactly what it is
doing. And since it mentions the Gardener, that would conclude he
would appear at this time.”

“But that’s pretty vague,” James says.
Turning to Illan he asks, “Hasn’t the Empire been ‘swallowing its
neighbors’ for hundreds of years?”

Nodding, he replies, “Yes they have.”

James turns back to Brother Willim.

“As I said there have been other prophecies
the man spoke that foretells the time of the Gardener’s coming,” he
says. “I and my brothers have no doubt that that time is now.” He
can see the doubt in James’ eyes. “This next prophecy we have never
been able to satisfactorily discern its meaning. However, it should
have meaning for the Gardener.”

Ships through air, a walk on the moon,

Invisible death his kind has strewn.

Box of pictures, music from stone,

By these things the Gardener is known.

Traveling far from a land apart,

Lost and alone on the path he will
start.

The light of knowledge shall be at his
side,

Salvation or death, the edge he doth
stride.

When he finishes he looks to James for his
reaction.

James sits back, his mind churning over the
prophecy. The first stanza has to refer to Earth.
Ships through
the air, a walk on the moon, Invisible death his kind has
strewn.
Airplanes, Neil Armstrong and the invisible death could
refer to radiation fallout. The rest of the first stanza is also
referring to his home.

The next stanza, well he definitely comes
from a land apart. And he did start lost and alone when he went
through the door at the interview. He glances to Miko who has been
listening to the whole conversation. “The Star must be the light of
knowledge,” he says. “Morcyth is a god of learning so that makes
sense.”

“But the last line,
Salvation or death,
the edge he doth stride,
” Miko replies. “What can that
mean?”

Shaking his head he says, “I don’t know.” He
then arcs an eyebrow questioningly to Brother Willim.

“You are heading toward a time when you are
going to be placed in a situation where your actions will determine
the fate of this world,” he explains. “Other prophecies refer to
it, but none are clear as to when you will reach that moment or the
decision that will be pivotal. I’m sorry I can’t be of any more
help than that.”

Great
, thinks James.
As if I don’t
already have enough to worry about.
“I think I would have just
as soon not known all this.”

“I understand,” says Brother Willim. “Many
of our brethren argued that foreknowledge could alter the outcome
to our doom. Others of course argued that it could only help if you
knew what was going on.”